Worth It
by Chatte D'Ange
Summary: We've always been told we aren't worth it. We have one chance to prove them wrong. So we better make it good. TFAverse, OC centric. Rated T cause of possible ugliness in battle scenes.
1. Snap

Okay, I know I have six other stories going right now, but I have to write this. The plot bunnies won't leave me alone! This is set in the TFAverse (as it is necessary for this story idea and I like it), so if you don't like it, don't read it, because this story will eventually intersect with the main plotline. Although, by then, I will hopefully have you hooked if you decide to read this story anyway.

If the characters are to OOC for you to handle, I blame the plot bunnies. XP No flamers please, but constructive criticism and suggestions for storylines are always welcomed (and much appreciated).

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. Any OCs are mine. Please do not use them without permission, although I will probably say yes.

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"_Every minute of your life that has been stolen will be replaced twofold, and every blessing you give shall multiply."_

The words of the ancient voice echo in my aching head as I struggle against the darkness closing in on me. What's happening to me? My whole body feels like it's on fire and being numbed by ice at the same time. I can barely remember what the voice said, much less process it. What's going on? Stolen minutes? Every blessing I give? Since when have I ever been a blessing to anyone? I've always been a curse.

I mentally shake myself. That doesn't matter right now. Something is telling me I _have_ to get conscious. NOW.

Okay. The key to staying awake is keeping your eyes open, right? So all I have to do is open my eyes and keep them open.

Easier said than done. My eyelids feel like lead. I try to shake myself, but I can't move. Okay, now I'm scared.

That gives me enough willpower to pry my eyes open. At first, all I can see are out of focus shadows, fuzzy shapes that refuse to congeal and let my brain process what they are. _Okay, fine. You want to play that way, huh?_ I almost laugh at the nonsensical thought as I force my eyes to focus on just one object until it clears. Like the shapes are actually trying to avoid me being able to see them. Right.

What I see when I my vision finally clears shocks me so badly I almost black out again. THERE IS A STINKING ROBOT STARING ME IN THE FACE!!! And this guy is seriously freaky looking. For one thing, he doesn't even have separate eyes. He has . . . well, I guess you would call it a visor. Think Cyclops from X-Men, only freaky red glowing welded to his face instead of sexy shades type. They didn't even try to give this guy any semblance of a mouth. It's just a face plate. This guy is maybe three feet from my face, and he is definitely a lot bigger than me.

He's also looking at me like he can't figure out how I had the audacity to insult him that way. Whatever "that way" was. Don't ask me how I can tell it's a "he", or how I know he thinks I insulted him or whatever. I guess it's just his "aura" or whatever. And he's not really a "he", I don't think, just in personality or something. Heck with it. I can't explain it.

Whatever it is, it's also telling me that this guy would like nothing more than to see me dead. Except maybe to torture me until I scream and cry and beg for mercy and then kill me in the slowest, most agonizing way possible.

As my eyes finish focusing, his visor seems to widen. A soft, very robotic monotone emanates from the robot. "I'm impressed, Autobot. No one has ever come online of their own volition after that magnitude of a blast."

"Mm." I'm not sure what he expects me to say, but I do know I'd rather not insult him at the moment, because not only do I have no idea what's going on (much less what an Autobot is or what I'm supposed to have been blasted with), that thing he's holding looks like a nasty piece of work. Plus, I can't seem to open my mouth.

"Don't bother trying to talk, Autobot. You won't be able to. None of your servos are going to be working anytime soon, either."

I might be worried if I actually knew what a servo was. I was never much for computers or robotics. Instead of trying to figure it out, I decide to get more information on my surroundings the only way I currently can. As I look around, I notice a theme of barrenness, darkness, and blinking lights. And another thing. Despair. It feels like a lot of people have lost their will to live in this room.

All of the above, however, is nothing compared to what I see when I catch a glimpse of my own body. (I'm strapped down on a diagonally tilted table, with my head propped at a very uncomfortable angle.) It's metal-armored, the plates army green, with a dirty dark grayish-brownish color on the nonplated parts of my arms, legs, and lower waist.

The creepy bot apparently sees my eyes widen in shock, because he let out an evil monotone laugh before getting in my face again and saying, "You didn't honestly think I'd leave all that perfectly good weaponry on a bot destined for the scrapheap, did you?" He waves a pair of cannons and what looks like a clear blue protective visor in my face, and I look back at my arms and see the wiring bared in the spots where the canons should have been, even as I register for the first time that a part of my face feels bare.

That does it. Any being, bot, human, or otherwise, that takes pleasure in harming another being for no real reason officially loses their "person" status.

My face contorts into what would have been a snarl if I had full control, and the bot laughs again. "I'm actually glad you woke up, Autobot, because I'm going to enjoy probing you online."

I really do not like the sound of "probing." Probing what I'm not sure, but it sounds invasive and, with this bot involved, painful. His back turns, and I feel more than hear a pair of simultaneous, almost inaudible clicks as two somethings slide into place on my wrists. I look down to see a pair of gleaming blades edged in a blue glow that are as long as my green-armored forearms, then belatedly realize that I moved my head to look down. I test my limbs to see if they move, too, cutting a piece of the material forming my bonds as I do so. A smirk forms on my face, and I wait for the bot to turn around before making my next move.

I am not disappointed, because when he does (with a particularly nasty looking piece of equipment in his hands), the "look" that I can feel emanating from him as I slice through the straps binding me to the table and tackle him to the ground is more than enough payback for the "scrapheap" comment.

I realize that the advice lost on so many new villains warning them not to gloat before completely disabling their nemeses (a/n yes that's spelled right, it's plural) is very accurate when the bot (whom I had tackled onto his side) rolls over, slamming me into a nearby array of machinery. For lack of a better retaliating move, I kick out with both of my legs in hopes of displacing him enough to shinny out from behind him. Fortunately and unfortunately, I fail to notice the large piece of machinery sitting parallel to us. Fortunately because the force of the kick slams the torture-bot into said piece of machinery hard enough to daze him. Unfortunately because it knocks several loose components off onto both of us. Several _large_ loose components—as in, big enough to trap me here.

I think my beginner's luck must have run out at this stage, because a new bot (who looks twice as menacing as the first guy) opens the door and steps in carrying two bots that are identical except in color—one's red, and the other is yellow—and saying in a surprisingly female voice, "Soundwave, I hope you're not through with that Intellbot yet, because we might get more info out of her if we use these—"

The bot who had been threatening to "probe" (Soundwave?) interrupts her there. "Thunderblast, toss me that energyprod!"

I move to get out of the way, but Thunderblast aims her charging cannon at the two twin-bots in her grip. "Ah-ah, Intellbot. Not if you don't want your friends here fried." I notice that these guys have the same red symbol as I do on their chests. The two nasties look like they have similar purple symbols. Almost like faction symbols or something. I think the twin-bots are on my side. I hear Soundwave's energyprod firing up, and that brings me back to reality real fast.

_Snap. What do I do now?

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_What do you think? Hit the little lavender button! I dare you! 


	2. Escape

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers.

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_Snap. What do I do now?_

As if in answer to my question, the room rocks violently, throwing both Soundwave and Thunderblast off of their feet._ Are we on a boat or something? A ship, maybe?_

Thunderblast drops the twin-bots in a futile effort to keep her balance as the room continues to shake. The motion draws me back to reality, and I take advantage of living for two years on a houseboat to keep myself steady as I grab the stunned Soundwave's energyprod and hit him in the chest with it. Soundwave s in mid-topple when I hit him, and he falls back onto a nearby table, unconscious. Unfortunately, my cannons are on that table, and he lands on them with a sickening crunch.

Not bothering to stop (hey I have no emotional attachment to the things, and the safety of my comrades is more important anyway), I charge Thunderblast, and knock her over. Then, almost as an afterthought, I hit her with the energyprod, too. The purple bot's red eyes widen, then dim, not quite going dark, as she too faints. I dash over and grab my visor off the table, trying to figure out how I'm going to haul two bots that are bigger than me out of this place. As I fit the visor over my eyes, hearing it click into place, something stirs behind me. I whirl around, praying that Thunderblast hasn't woken up.

I heave a sight of relief when I see that the red bot is the one peering blearily around on his hands and knees. I trot up to him. "Hey, we need to get out of here. Think you can carry him?" I gesture to the yellow bot beside him. He nods slowly and staggers to his feet. He shakes his head, like he's trying to clear it. It must have worked, because his motions are much more precise as he picks up what I assume to be his yellow twin than they were when he got up.

He studies me for a moment, eyes resting on the bare circuitry where my cannons should have been and face growing soft with sympathy, then on my blades as they hum softly with the blue energy lines. I thank God that Soundwave didn't find them, however that worked. Something tells me that evil bot wouldn't have left an enemy armed with _anything._ Shifting his yellow companion to one shoulder, the bot opens a panel on his forearm to let out a cannon that soon glows with energy and a soft light in its barrel.

I nod. "Let's go."

We charge out the open door and down a corridor. About halfway to the door at the end, I hear a muffled sound. _Someone—crying? I wouldn't doubt it in this place._ I skid to a stop, and head back to where the sound is loudest. The red bot protests. "Hey, what are you doing? Are your circuits crossed? We have to get out of here!"

"There's someone else in here. I can't just leave them." Not waiting for a reply, I stab my right blade into the keypad in front of me, wondering too late if that was the best idea. Fortunately, the panel beside me slides open, revealing another, shorter corridor, this one lined with six more keypads.

Since it worked well enough the first time, I stab these ones, right down the line. Six door panels pop open, revealing seven battered Autobots, judging by the red symbols marking them. From the looks of things, they'd been brutally disarmed too, what with all that circuitry showing. A couple are missing armor plates, as well. All of them look utterly traumatized. Biting back my anger, I switch into drill sergeant mode, the one I used to use to get my siblings in line when they were being particularly difficult and Mom wasn't home yet.

"C'mon, you lot! Let's get out of here while we've got the chance!" They all stare at me, like they don't dare to hope that this is real. "Come _on_, you guys! They might find us any minute, so we need to move before they do!"

One of the bots snaps out of it, a bright red bot that looks very female. "She's legit, guys. Let's go!" A second bot, this one a guy, peers at me hard before concurring.

"Firestar's right. She's clear. We need to move." Whatever it is about these bots that makes the others listen, I'm forever grateful as the hope returns to faces that look like they haven't seen it in a good long while and the little group gets to its feet and dashes out behind me to the waiting twin-bots. The yellow one's woken up and is standing, nervous and very alert, next to the red one.

They join us as we charge up to the door at the end of the hall. It opens, and all ten of us skid to a stop, barely managing to avoid a pile-up. Another bot, this one blue and white, stares at us. Feeling suddenly and unreasonably obnoxious, I stare right back, noticing the red symbol on his chest. I grin. "Boy am I glad to see you! For a moment there I thought we were going to have to fight."

He snaps out of it, and says in a very genteel voice that makes me think of Pride and Prejudice, "It seems that our work has been done for us." His voice holds a note of humor, and I can't help but like him right away. "Come on then, let's get you off of this Primus-forsaken ship." I laugh and dash after him with the others.

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Leave a review before you go, s'il vous plait, and have a lovely day.


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